I Needed You
by CercandoUnaVoce
Summary: On the last day of a deployment, a voicemail reveals Clay that his mother had a car crash, leaving him even more anxious to go back home. Soon, the suspect she crashed intentionally becomes more than just a feeling, and Clay is left dealing with the consequences of the choices both he and his mother had made. Warning for suggestive themes inside.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's note_** _: Complete rewrite of the original version I wrote about one year and half ago. I'm gonna add a few more scenes, too._

 _The story is set somewhere middle/end of season 1, so Clay doesn't feel completely part of Bravo Team Family yet, his relationship with his father is a big mess, and the romance with Stella is solid._

 _ **Warning:** this story features the theme of suicide. _

* * *

_**.**_

Heavy footsteps echoed through the sleeping base camp as Alpha and Bravo teams paced toward their barracks. Dust caught up in their scraggly beards made the metallic taste in their mouths even worse and lit up their desire of cold beers.

Sonny took off his body armor. "We did it, boys! Last mission of the deployment." He cracked a grin. "It's time to party!"

Bravo Team smiled; they had every intention to make that last hour before the take-off count. Had not been for the pungent odor their bodies emanated, they could almost already savor the air of home.

"Easy there, cowboy!" Jason held a six-pack hostage. "Before you do anything, you need to take a shower."

Silent expectation hovered in the cramped barrack as Bravo waited for the crash to go off. Nobody can get between Sonny and beer, not even Bravo One.

But Jason grinned, throwing Sonny a can. "You stink, man."

"More than usual." At Trent's words, laughs resounded.

"Get that smirk off your face, Ray!" Jason said. "You don't smell any better, and we're not taking a twelve-hour flight with you in those conditions."

More laughs sounded while Sonny sniffed himself and his brother, shrugging at the realization the primary source of the smell was the two of them.

Ray darted a _stop-it_ look at him. "I get it, I get it," he said, lifting his arms defensively. "But next time, it's your turn to hide in the barn with camels, Jace."

Jason grinned. "Not until I'm the boss."

… … …

"Wow, your phone his burning, Romeo!" Sonny craned to take a good peek at the device Clay had laid on the wooden table

- _23 missed calls_ -

All eyes converged on Clay, and while he squinted at the screen, the air filled with the kind of expectation they sensed when they were under heavy fire and the enemy stopped to reload.

"What can I say" —Clay moved a step toward the door, fingers clutched at his phone— "I'm irresistible."

Quickly as it had created, the tension dissipated, and Bravo Team started again to take care of their equipment and more importantly, of their beers.

"Something wrong?" Jason stopped Clay by the doorway.

"I'm gonna find out," Clay said, not looking back.

The warm wind's whistle resounded through the open door, and the smell of sweat and exhaustion took the guy's minds back to dreaming their homes. Concerned looks left space to smiling eyes as Sonny casually made his way to the remaining beers Jason stored aside.

"Shower first!" Jason grabbed the cans right before Sonny's hand landed on them.

Laughs faded in the night as the message in his voice mail made Clay's heart stop.

 ** _. . ._**

Jason approached the lonely figure crouched on the dirt right outside the dorm room. The shadows that his beard and scruffy hair drew on Clay's face under the pale glow of the cell phone's screen underlined the concern in his expression.

"What's up, kid?"

Clay's hands fiddled with the phone while his eyes stared at some undefined point among his feet. Jason's voice could have been just another creepy whistle of the wind.

"Clay." Jason rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"We're still going home tonight, right?"

Jason shuddered at the unexpected cold draught that seemed to follow Clay's words. "We take off in less than one hour, just as planned." He squinted down at his man; a layer of grim barely hid the pallor of his face. "Talk to me, kid."

Darkness fell as the cell phone screen turned off.

"Did something happen with Stella?"

"Um?" Clay got up and dusted himself off. "She's fine." He glanced around, hearing at the silence hovering. "Where are the guys, shouldn't they pack?"

"Still at the showers. Where you should be too. You really need—"

Clay stepped aside. "I just need to go home."

Jason placed himself in the way before his man could sneak away. Peering through the darkness, his eyes met a gaze devoid of all light. "I know it's about those phone calls. Spit it up, C'mon."

Clay glanced down at his phone. "My mother. She, uh, got into an accident… a, uh, a car crash."

Jason's neck muscle stiffened, and his lips pursed; the image of his wife and kids popped up vividly in his mind. Something happening to a loved one while they were deployed was any operator's worst nightmare.

"Sorry to hear that, kid."

Clay cleared his voice. "She's not good."

Jason patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, if there's anything I can do—"

Clay freed himself from the touch while red eyes ran from eye contact. "I need to collect my things and—" One hand gripped the dorm's doorknob. "See you on the plane."

A SEAL does not shake… Jason's heart clenched as strong as Clay's hand wrapped his cell phone. A voice-mail or a text message were not the best ways to learn something went down at home. But was there ever a good way?

The petty officer's dorm door creaked open under Clay's light push; draught-raised dust made its way inside, preceding Clay's dirty boots.

"Wait."

"Yeah, okay." Clay froze, but didn't look back. "I'm gonna shower."

"Clay, who told you about the accident? These communications usually go through Davis while we're out on the field."

The cell phone's screen turned on, lightening the grim on Clay's face. "My mom's fiancé. He" –Clay snorted— "he never bothered to ask how it works. He probably didn't even know I was deployed."

"You don't seem to like the man very much."

"I don't know him very much. Not at all." Clay shrugged lightly. "I guess he's okay… just…" he grimaced, looking away. "You know, my mom doesn't have the best tastes in men."

The sand carried by the wind irritated their skin while up in the sky, clouds veiled the moon. The obscurity hovering around didn't help Jason decode Clay's already statuary expression.

"I need to finish packing now." Clay stepped a foot in the empty room, switching the light on. Jason's persistent look on the back of his head made him stiffen. "Um, hey." He turned back to his boss. "Can this stay between us?"

Jason stood lips pursed. "Blackburn should know. And Davis, too. She'll help you with the comms while we're on move."

"I'll talk to them, but let the guys out of this, please."

"You know you can always talk to me, _to any of us_ , right?"

Clay's eyes darted at him with apprehension. "I just need to go back home."

 _ **. . .**_

Chuckles and chats filled the runway as sailors and support personnel loaded the back of the plane with bags and pieces of equipment. Absent-mindedly, Clay dumped a case on the metal floor.

"Be careful there, Bam-Bam!" Sonny said, glancing at the beer's refrigerator. "You're transporting the most precious cargo of all."

As those words went from ear to ear, Clay headed off and aimed for another case to transport and secure. He passed by Ray, grazing his shoulder and not bothering to excuse himself. Ray scowled, but when his mouth opened, Jason silently advised him against it. Sonny matched his look, equally apprehensive and confused.

It didn't take long before all was set and everyone was settled and strapped for the take-off. Support personnel was at one extremity; Bravo and Alpha sat across each other.

"Alpha Team owes you a case of beer for being number one for the mission, Adam," Jason smirked at Derek, who was set in front of him.

"And you, Bravo Team, owns Alpha one for saving your asses _again!_ " Derek retorted.

Jason snorted. "That's not how I remember it."

Adam shook his head, his eyes sparkling. "Guys, I really missed this."

"I can bet it, brother!" Ray smiled at him. "But at least all that time babysitting green teamers had not rusted you." He leaned forward to avoid Sonny's head and catch a glimpse on Clay, waiting for him to collect his tease, but he was staring into the distance, hands clutched at his phone.

Adam's eyes shifted across, too, reaching Clay. An air pocket made the plane flinch, waking up even Trent, who usually had the astonishing ability to sleep through storms.

"Yeah," Adam continued, "you would be surprised how those baby frogs keep your mind alert."

Clay turned his head to his mates, faking a weak laugh. "It's not my fault if you can't keep up, gramps."

The atmosphere lightened more once the sailors were given the green light to wander around the plane. Only a few support guys and the napping Trent stayed strapped to their seats while all the others moved to finally put their hands on the so hard dreamed beers. All but Clay, who went straight to place his hammock as far as he could from the commotion.

Jason stared at his young man with his arm crossed and the expression of an apprehensive father on his face.

Adam joined the stare while offering him a beer. "What's wrong with him?"

Bravo members sharpened their ears to catch the conversation, but as no word was pronounced, they gathered around the two. The set of eyes on Clay, who was hidden in the semi-darkness, were starting to be too many to pass unnoticed.

"He's been off since we came back to the base. Something about some phone calls he received I guess," Ray said. "But he doesn't talk."

"Oh, that's weird now," Davis stepped in, a smirk masquerading a severe expression. "A Team Guy who doesn't want to share his feelings. Never heard about it."

She had a point. If there was a thing frogmen were not good at was sharing feelings. And asking for help, too, actually, even when things got serious.

"I tell you what, guys," Sonny said, grabbing two full bottles. "I don't know who the mysterious caller was, but I'm gonna find out."

No one else was as good as Sonny when it came to teasing and bringing a smile on his brother's face, but this time, Jason motioned him not to approach Clay.

"Leave him alone, guys."

"What do you know, Jace?" Ray peered insistently at his statuary expression.

"I know that he doesn't want to share right now."

"He doesn't want to share?" Ray echoed. "And we just stop trying?"

It was apparent Jason knew more than what he was trying to let out, and Bravo's concern for their youngest member conflicted with the trust they had in their boss's judgment.

"Since this is none of your business, Ray," Jason insisted.

"Not our business?" Sonny scowled. "Are you kidding me?"

Jason glanced at Clay, whose eyes were fixed on the plane's ceiling. "Not now," he ordered. "Look, there is no need to make a big deal about it, the kid knows he can talk to us. He will when he's ready." His eyes, as well as all Bravo Team's, briefly shifted to Clay again.

No one dared to ask, "are you sure he does know?" but that thought hovered in the air. Dismay could be breath at full lungs, even though they knew that with another eleven-hour to count before reaching friendly soil, they needed to change the air.

"You heard the boss," Ray said, walking away to join Alpha in the celebration of the end of the deployment.

One last look at Clay's appearance and the orders sounded even crueler to Bravo ears. Being alone didn't seem at all what Clay needed at the moment.

Fortunately, he wasn't alone for real. Cerberus was usually the best at following orders, but this time his furless brother needed him. When no one was paying attention, he sneaked to the hammock and put his snout on Clay's lap, so he _had_ to pet him.

Davis smiled sadly. "At least one of us is allowed to sit with him."

 ** _. . ._**

Two hours into the flight and Davis couldn't bear the sight anymore. After all, she was not a SEAL and didn't have to be under Jason's heel. She approached Clay cautiously even though he was so immersed in his thoughts he would not have heard a bull coming.

"You know it's not gonna ring just because you stare at it, right?" Davis settled on a seat near Clay's hammock and handed him a bottle of water. Cerberus sneaked away, like if he had understood they were gonna have a private conversation.

"Yeah..." Clay turned to her; dark circles marked his pallid face. "You have any news for me?"

She shook her head. "Sorry."

He sat up and stretched his arm to take the water bottle. Davis took advantage of the moment to graze his hand. "I'm sure she'll be alright." She smiled thoughtfully. "If she's strong halves her son is, you have nothing to worry about."

Clay opened and closed the lid without actually drinking. "Strong or not, I wasn't there when she needed me." The bottle crackled in his hands. He laid back on the hammock, eyes to the ceiling. "I did become my father after all…"

"Incidents happen, Clay. You could have done nothing to prevent that car crash."

"What if I did?" His hands gripped his phone tight. "My mom tried to contact me."

Something in his voice made Davis stiffen.

"She tried to tell me that something was wrong—" Clay grimaced. "And I didn't even answer the damn phone!"

His loud tone attracted apprehensive glances on him. He cleared his throat, shaking the attitude off and concentrated on steadying his breath.

A bell rang in Davis's mind. "What do you mean, Clay?" She said as soon as she felt they had some sort of privacy again. "You said your mother had an accident, didn't she?"

Clay's hand scrunched around his phone. "I don't know."

Without looking at Davis, Clay sat straight and then got up. "I need some air."

"You know we're on a plane, right?" As she looked him wandering off, her sad smile faded.

For a good minute, Davis sat alone, tangled by the sensation she was missing some vital information. When she snapped out from her thoughts, Jason was staring at her. He had been secretly peeking at her and Clay for the entire time of their brief conversation. After all, what else would you expect from Bravo One?

He made her a sign to reach him and, from a distance, motioned Adam to do the same. Ray glanced at them but eventually decided the private meeting was not for him.

"What's this about?" Adam said.

"You served with Ash Spenser, right?"

"Clay's father?" Adam's eyebrow raised. "Yeah. Why? Something happened to him?"

The three glanced at Clay, who was now trying, not so successfully, to mix up with the rest of Bravo and Alpha teams.

"What do you know about the ex-wife?" Jason took Adam's attention back to him.

"The kid's mom? Not so much. They were already divorced when I met Ash, and you know how it works with team guys, right?"

Davis crossed Adam's perplexed look.

"Something happened to her?" Adam's eyes shifted instantaneously to Clay, only to come back to Jason with apprehension. "Is that why the kid's so low?"

"Just curious." Jason pressed his lips together, meeting Davis's eyes.

She shifted uneasily. They were not supposed to share those pieces of information with anyone, not even with Clay's ex-instructor, mentor, and family friend.

"Yeah," Adam snorted. "You were randomly curious about Spenser's mother. Right now, on a plane after a successful mission for your team." He stared insistently.

"Alright," Davis stepped in. "I'm too concerned to care about Clay's confidentiality." She turned to Jason.

Adam's puzzled eyes tried to get in their intense game of looks. In the distance, Clay set aside again, petting Cerberus.

Jason gave up, turning to Davis. "What exactly do you know?"

"The little Clay told me." She sighed. "I was barely able to get from him the name of the hospital."

"Hospital?" Frustration drew on Adam's face. "Can you guys fill me in?"

"Clay's mother had a car accident," Davis continued. "The doctors don't want to break the silence on her prognosis."

"Oh, man…" Adam whispered.

Once again, their eyes converged on Clay, who, though, remained unaware. A 'but' or something alike was hovering in the air.

Jason crossed his arms. "What are you not telling us, Davis?"

She shook her head. "Just a feeling."

"Spit it up," Adam ordered as he was talking with one of his recruits.

"It's for something Clay said." Davis lowered her tone. "I think he suspects it was not an accident at all…"

"Are you serious?" Jason's anguished look shifted to Clay, who this time met his eyes.

He knew they were talking about him. The look of betrayal drew on Clay's face at the realization, hardly covering for something else. Could that be shame? More likely guilt and failure, though, just like the three of them felt.

Jason tensed. He was Bravo One, so he should have been able to make his man open up with him. Davis swallowed, knowing she violated his friend's trust. Adam shook his head, sighing. Maybe he could have seen that coming.

"I guess that fits…" Adam's flat voice brought Jason and Davis back from their thoughts. They stared, unsure they heard it right. "It's something that Ash told me back in the days." Adam lowered his tone, and made sure the three of them gave their backs to Clay. "The kid may have his reasons to think of alternative explanations."

Jason darkened. "What do you mean?"

"When Clay told me about his mom being kind of a mess after the divorce, I didn't put things together, but now…"

"You mind articulate?"

"Sorry." Adam slightly shook his head. "Ash told me the divorce was pretty rough. He said Clay's mom started drinking afterward" —he glanced back at Clay, who was once more staring at his phone— "and taking pills."

Jason grimaced. "I didn't know anything about all that."

While the three of them not so secretly watched Clay hiding in his hammock again, Davis stood soundless. She had her secrets, too, but learning such things about a friend in that way was quite shocking.

Adam sighed. "Well, that's not a thing you reveal in a regular conversation with anyone."

"We're not just _anyone_ ," Jason grunted, hands scrunched in first.

"You know what I meant," Adam said. "Clay was just a child. I don't even know what he remembers about that time, but I'm sure he's aware his mom was a mess. He told me that was the reason why his maternal grandparents took him away from her. From both his parents."

Defeat hovered in the air.


	2. Chapter 2

The instant the plane landed and opened its backport, Clay made his way through the small crowd, pacing up toward the parking lot. Insistent and worried looks followed him until falling into the void.

There was a moment of odd silence among Bravo members, but then the joy of touching friendly soil with one more success to add to their files took hold of them. In an unbroken light atmosphere, the Team Guys aimed for their cages before finally going home, and the support personnel slowly shuffled away.

The desolation of the empty compartment weighed on Davis, who stayed behind to check everything was where it had to be. Something out of place caught her attention. She approached; a sigh escaped her mouth. It was Clay's go-bag.

Davis glanced at her wristwatch; Clay had rushed off so quickly he would be already long gone. She grabbed the worn-out handles and headed to the parking lot. She had to try. If, as she suspected, Clay would end up spending the night at the hospital, he surely needed the content of the bag.

The sound of an engine agonizing resounded in the distance. Insistently. Then nothing.

When she identified the source, Davis paced up.

"Damn it!" Clay punched the wheel. "Damn it!"

The hood clicked open a moment before Clay jumped off, and immediately the door slammed closed.

Davis reached him and looked over his shoulder. "What's wrong here?"

Clay winced, his shaking hands scrunched in threatening fist.

"Easy, it's just me." Davis put one hand in the air while the other tightened its grab on the bag's handle.

Clay turned his attention back to the car. His hands moved frenetically from one mechanical piece to another.

"Hey." Davis put a hand on his shoulder.

"This damn car decided to stop!" Clay kicked the tire. A grimace drew on his face while he tried to hide the pain he just caused himself.

"Let's go." Davis handed him his bag.

Clay shifted it from hand to hand, looking uncertain. His eyes laid on his useless car, then passed rapidly from his feet to his friend, who was already heading to her truck. The sound of a perfectly functioning engine sounded in the air, and Clay's body finally decided to move and hop in Davis truck.

The cushioned sounds of light traffic became more intense when Davis opened the car window to attenuate the smell the scarce care Clay put in his shower after the last mission and the long flight that followed provoked. In usual circumstances, she would not have lost the occasion to mock him on the topic, but those were certainly not usual circumstances.

During all the drive, Davis continually glanced at Clay through the rearview mirror, as like to make sure he was at least breathing, but their eyes never met, not even when she stopped her truck in front of the hospital to let Clay out.

As he hurried off and rushed inside, Davis's eyes laid on the car floor in front of the passenger seat. She sighed; Clay's bag was there.

 ** _. . ._**

Inside the hospital, the air tasted like alcohol, but not the kind Clay would have needed to pass the night ahead. Clay's boots clapped on the linoleum floor while he forced himself not to run through the endless hallway.

Too busy reading the labels outside the rooms to meet anyone's look, Clay froze in place when he found the one he was seeking. Room 31, just as his mother's fiancé had texted him. Clay swallowed. Leaving the bright corridor to enter the semi-darkness was something his pounding heart struggled to accomplish.

As soon as Clay set foot in the room, a vice grabbed the pit of his stomach. He held his breath while scanning the shape of his mother's feet under the blankets and her chest rhythmically lifting under a light hospital gown with the help of a ventilator. When his eyes reached her dreadfully pale face, Clay swallowed. He didn't remember his mother to be so thin.

"How's she doing?" Clay's eyes darted at the man sat near his mother's bed to avoid looking directly at the laid down figure at the center of the room.

Nolan jumped from his seat. "Clay." He cleared his voice, his expression turning stern.

"How's she doing?"

"Stable. But still critical."

Clay's look shifted again to his mother's immovable figure. He approached the bed and grazed her cold hand but immediately retracted his arm. "What the hell has happened, Nolan?" he faced his mother's fiancé. "Were you with her?"

He snorted and started to collect his things. "Why would have I?"

Clay stepped closer, matching the other man's eyes. "What does that mean?"

"Are you sure you're ready to hear the truth?" Nolan's dark eyes mirrored in Clay's lighter ones.

The regular beeping of the monitor connected to Clay's mother's heart resounded rhythmic and loud.

"She crashed her car on a damn tree." Nolan backed off and took a deep breath. "They analyzed her blood. She was drunk, Clay."

"What are you s—" Clay's shifty eyes laid on the pale figure of his mother until he felt a presence in the room.

"I'm sorry" —Davis approached with Clay's bag firmly in her hand— "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Clay passed a hand in his scruffy hair and cleared his throat. "It's okay, thank you." As he grabbed the bag's handle, their hands grazed. "Um, thanks for the ride an all, but… yeah, you don't need to stay. I can take care of myself."

"I've seen." She smirked, letting the bag go so he could store it aside.

"I'm not staying." Nolan glanced at his cell phone before putting it back in his pocket. "Don't be the usual arrogant, Clay. You could use a friend."

Clay's hands scrunched in fists. "What do you mean you're not staying?"

"I'm sorry, okay? But I don't even know what I was doing here in the first place. Or why I was listed as her next of kin."

"What?"

"And I have a lot of things to do."

"I can't believe it!" Clay took Nolan by the scruff of his neck. "Are you seriously leaving her here like this? What kind of fiancé are you? What kind of man?"

"An ex-fiancé, Clay. That's who I am!" Nolan broke off Clay's hold. "We broke up a couple weeks ago. And you're not in the position to give me lessons, boy."

Clay's hands were shaking, his jaw contracted.

"But she didn't tell you, right?" Nolan snorted. "Of course, you're never around. Just like your father, uh?"

"What did you just say?" Clay came nose to nose with him.

"Just what your mother thinks of you." Nolan stared with challenging eyes. "I'm not surprised she did this."

"Did what?" Clay's tone got ruder, and his right arm bent, making his bicep pop out. "Say it."

"Open your eyes, boy. This is no accident! You would know if you have been around."

A vein started throbbing in Clay's neck. "Say it again!"

"You've always been blinded by yourself."

Davis put a hand on Clay's arm to prevent him to throw a punch.

Clay retracted from contact, barely aware of his friend's presence. "And where were you, then, Mr. perfect guy?"

"I didn't end our relationship, she's the one who pushed me away. Probably because I wasn't messed up enough to meet her standards."

"You, little—" Clay placed his finger on Nolan's chest.

"Stop! That's enough, guys!" Davis separated them and pointed with her head toward Clay's mom. "You've more important things to care about right now.

Clay took a deep breath. His hands remained clenched while he stared at his mother's chest rise and lower at regular intervals.

"I shouldn't have said what I said, I'm—"

"Shut up," Clay said without looking at him.

"Okay. I needed to go anyway." Nolan threw a last, long look to his ex-fiancé, then headed out of the room. "Take care of her."

"Yeah, go ahead! Run!" Clay followed him out the door and punched the wall.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, Clay." Davis reached him and put a hand on his back. "Let's go back inside and sit down for a moment, okay? We'll figure this out."

 ** _. . ._**

Sat side by side to Clay, Davis couldn't do much more than stare and breathe the desperation in the air while the time never passed.

The inexorable ticking of the wall clock on one side, not perfectly matching their wristwatches and resonating with them, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor on the other, the caretakers' footsteps coming from the corridor, the croaky voice of the speaker resounding from time to time…

Clay clenched and unclenched his fists, eyes glued on the gray floor while trying to practice his sniper breathing. It didn't help. Every intake of air, the smell of bleach and sorrow made him nauseous, and even though every SEAL was used to any kind of bad smell—from sweat to blood to even worse— _this_ was different. This smell was worse than anything he had ever had to sniff.

"You don't have to stay here," Clay said, leaning toward the floor to not meet Davis's eyes. "We literally just landed after a long deployment." He sniffed. "I'm fine, really. You must have better things to do."

Davis stared Clay's neck and shoulders tensed muscles. "My job is to make sure you guys have everything you need, and what you surely don't need now is being alone."

Clay got up from the chair and stared at his mother, then turned to finally meet Davis's eyes. "I'm not gonna be alone. Stella will be here soon. I texted her."

"Okay." Davis nodded. "I'll just wait for her arrival then."

Clay's expression hinted annoyance, but his eyes were full of gratitude. He looked away, turning back to the figure laid on the bed, and his throat closed. Once again, an oppressive silence hovered in the air, broken only by beeping and ticking.

Shifting weight from leg to leg, Clay stood beside the bed, giving his back to Davis. "You" —he cleared his throat— "you heard my conversation with Nolan… what he said about my mom, didn't you?"

Davis stiffened and took a deep breath. "About her being drunk—"

Clay could feel her eyes on the back of his head but didn't dare to turn.

"—or the fact that she crushed on purpose?"

Clay headed to the window and stared at the last traces of sunlight hovering above the horizon. His hands, clenched in fists, shook visibly.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Davis approached him till her shoulder grazed his. "I didn't mean to be so direct."

Clay bit his lips. The constant beeping resonated in his chest walls.

Davis glanced at Clay's mom, then back at her friend. "You think he was right. Nolan? You think that it was not an accident?" She made Clay face her. "You said it to me on the plane. Why?"

"I—" Clay grimaced. "I don't know." He inched aside, eyes shifting to stare at his mom. "This is all my fault. I should have been here. I should have been with her. I should have answered her calls…"

"Don't go there." Davis faced him again. "Don't do this, okay? You don't know what really happened."

Clay sat back at the corner of the room. His hands in his hair, his eyes glued on his mother. "She tried to call me, and I didn't listen to her."

"It's okay, you'll talk to her again. She is not going anywhere."

Clay jumped to his feet again. "How do you know?"

Davis didn't back off but kept looking him with amazing staidness.

Clay stepped back. "What if she—"

"Hey," Stella sneaked her head into the room. "Can I come in?"

The beeping sound echoed deep while Clay's lost eyes met Stella's. She immediately stepped in and hugged Clay tight, trying to ignore the smell of sweat that mixed up the bleach scent that penetrated the walls.

"I'll leave you alone, then," Davis said quietly. "Let me know if you need anything, alright?"

"Thanks." Clay sniffed. "Really." He watched her going out, not able to add anything more. When he turned back, Stella was staring at his mom.

"She's stable. At least for now."

Stella's eyes veiled with tears. "And you? How are _you_ holding up?"

"I'm just glad to be back home." Clay sighed, sitting down. His muscles were giving up, and his heart kept struggling to beat. "And glad you are here with me."

"I'll always be." Stella smiled sadly at him.

 ** _. . ._**

The pale glow of a little lamp lighted Stella's soft features as she leaned asleep on Clay's shoulder. The warmth of her breath on his neck kept him from falling into the glacial silence of his heart while his eyes fought to stay open. Despite being tough and trained, the deployment and the flight back home had challenged Clay's body, and the concern for his mother, the guilt, and the emotional stress had put a strain on his nerves.

"I'm sorry for all this," Clay whispered, brushing a strand of hair over Stella's ear. Then his focus shifted back to the motionless body lying in bed.

The tube going out of his mother's mouth was the only sign of her struggle, otherwise, she seemed peaceful and painless. Could this actually be what she wanted? The buzzing of his phone took Clay's mind back abruptly, making his body wince.

Stella shifted and muttered something in her sleep, but Clay kindly helped her to lean against the wall. He stared at her for a few moments, then glanced back at his mom. She would have liked Stella, he decided, too bad he never dared to introduce the two of them… His phone buzzed again. Jason. Again. Clay exhaled soundly and ignored the call. _Sorry, boss, I can't do this right now._

The beeping sound coming from his mother's heart-monitor pounded in Clay's skull like a hail of bullets. He approached the bed and peered at his mother's pale face. "Come on, mom, open your eyes." —he caressed her cold skin, then his shaky hand took hers and held her tight— "I'm here, mom. Just tell me what can I do for you."


	3. Chapter 3

The day after the comeback from a deployment, the air at the base always tasted a bit different. That morning though, it hovered a sense of wait hard to describe.

Right outside the doors, Adam paced up and down while talking on his phone. He looked around suspiciously, as if the person he was talking to had to remain a secret, then nodded at himself. "Thanks, Ash. Keep me informed if you find out something. Yeah. I'll do," he added right before hanging up.

Jason spotted him entering the base and followed him inside. "Hey." He glanced back, cautiously. "Any news on the kid?"

Adam shook his head in resignation.

Jason grunted. "He's not answering my calls."

"Not just yours, I suspect," Adam said while they walked down the hall. "He didn't even tell his father."

They stood looking in each other's eyes while sailors passed by.

"He'll kill you for calling Ash, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, he'll kill you and Davis first for telling me."

"Don't worry about that," Davis popped out from behind them. "I don't think he really expected us to keep the secret for long."

Jason and Adam turned to her with expecting eyes.

"There's no change in Clay's mother's conditions," Davis added.

"You talked to him?"

"He called only to get a leave." They reached Bravo's cages' room, and she continued, "He's not coming to work today."

Adam stopped by the door. "This is not an easy situation, but we can't let him isolate."

Jason darted at him. "Of course not."

"Easier said than done," Davis retorted. "That's just what you team guys do all the time."

"We do what?" Ray approached them.

Adam's look shifted rapidly from Ray to Jason and then to Davis. "I have to go, keep me posted and I'll do the same."

"Posted on what, Jason?" Ray crossed his arms. "What are you guys up to?"

A hesitant silence hovered in the air as Ray followed Jason and Davis in the room. The change of atmosphere immediately got to Trent and Brock, who were cleaning up their cages still under the influence of the good vibe of the last deployment success.

"Is everything in order round here, boys?" Davis said. "You know, if you need some new toy, this is the perfect moment to ask for it."

"Don't change the subject, Lisa." Ray squinted at her.

"I'm just doing my job."

"I know, I know" —Sonny rushed in— "I'm late. Again—whoa, was there some kind of meeting I didn't' know about?"

"Jason was about to tell us what's going on here."

Trent and Brock got out from their cages, and Bravo all gathered around the table alongside Davis.

Sonny's eyes warily looked around. "Wait a minute, where's Clay? Is little Tinker Bell not coming today?"

Davis looked at Jason, who silently gave her permission to speak. "That's what I was telling Jason a minute ago. Clay took a license." She inspected the guys' reactions. "Probably will be out for a few days."

Ray shook his head. "I knew something was off with him."

"You're making me nervous." Sonny's palms hit the table. "What happened? Is it about Stella, or what else?"

"Not her." Once again, Jason's look met Davis's while he decided what to reveal. "It's his mother. Car crash. A bad one."

"How bad?" Ray spoke for all.

"All I know is that she successfully passed the night," Davis said. "But she's not out of the woods yet."

The silence echoed deep.

"That's not all." Ray peered at Davis insistently before gazing at Jason. "Am I wrong?"

The exchange of looks between Davis and Jason started getting on everyone's nerves, and the room became a powder keg waiting to explode.

"The circumstances of the crash are not clear," Davis finally said, causing the atmosphere to go from fiery to glacial.

 ** _. . ._**

Strong odor of bleach and deodorant worked its way through Clay's lungs while his eyelids fought with gravity. He had left that uncomfortable chair only once all night, and only because Stella insisted he stank and forced him to the bathroom. Although she was right on that and on many more things, Clay was too proud to ever admit it out loud.

Clay stretched the neck of his shirt. A clean shirt he would not have on now if it wasn't for Davis's concern. And yet, he had treated her rudely, both the day before and that morning on the phone. Clay was not the best in taking help, but which team guy was? But one thing he had to acknowledge, if it wasn't for his incredibly supportive friend and girlfriend, facing the night would have been ten times harder.

But now, Clay was alone. Davis offered to pass by, but he refused, not in a too kind way. And Stella had to go to work. Actually, he insisted she went to work; he couldn't let her pause her whole life for his mistakes.

Clay's eyes slowly closed only to pop back open when his head fell on its side. He should be used to not sleep for a night, so how could he be so tired? In all truth, he had not slept for three nights in a row already, not counting that one. His body and mind had both every reason to protest with him, but given the situation, that was not a good excuse for him.

The confused voice of the speaker broke the monotony of the beeping sound that filled the room. Clay wandered around to stretch his legs. Staring at his mother's motionless body was too hard, so he sought some comfort in the clear sky out the window.

"Why didn't you call me, son?"

Clay turned back with his hands instinctively closed in fists. "Dad?" Staring at the man in front of him, Clay swallowed, acknowledging a bad taste in his mouth. "What are you doing here? Who—" He snorted, his eyes shifting back to his mom. "I thought I was clear when I asked Stella to not call you."

Ash stretched out his arm, a cup of coffee in his hand. "Don't blame her." With his offer unaccepted, he turned his focus to his unconscious ex-wife.

The beeping of the monitors hammered Clay's skull. The sight of his father pretending to care about the situation was a perfect excuse to relieve his frustration. "I didn't even know you were in town."

"I was close enough when Adam Siever called me."

"Adam?" Clay snorted, rolling his eyes. "Davis…"

"What the hell happened here, son?"

"That's none of your business." Clay came nose-to-nose with his father. "You left her long ago, why are you interested in her all of a sudden?"

"Hey! Don't you dare talk to me like this ever again!"

The two stared at each other for a good moment; the persistent beeping noise in the background dictated the rhythm of their hearts.

"Sit down, Clay, and talk to me."

After a moment, Clay abandoned his body on the chair, completely out of strength. His tired eyes were glued to his mother's chest, rhythmically moved up and down by the respirator.

"I know you just got back from a deployment." Ash sat near him. "And I know you can't talk about it, but how long since you slept last?"

"It doesn't matter," Clay said in a resigned tone. "I need to be here when she wakes up. She can't be alone, not after… I don't—" he cleared his throat. "She needs me now."

Ash's loud sigh resounded in the room. "Look at me, Clay. This is not your fault."

Clay grimaced. "Whose is it then? Nolan's? Or maybe yours? Where were you when it all started, dad?"

"Stop right there, son! You don't know what you're talking about." Ash glanced at the bed. "Things started to go down long before you can even remember."

"You think I don't remember?" Trying to control his trembling hands, Clay took a deep breath to bring his tone back to a subtitle volume.

"I'm just saying you were too young to understand."

"Oh, no. I get it. She was broken, and you left her all alone to take care of your five-year-old son."

"That's not that simple, Clay," Ash glanced at the go-bag in the corner of the room. "I thought you would understand now. This job—"

"The job? Really?"

Ash got up, staring at his ex-wife, and without turning, he said, "I wasn't the only one who let you down back then. You should keep that in mind."

Clay looked at his pale mother. "Are you blaming her now?" He got up, too, making his father face him. "You think I don't remember all the times she let me have cereals for dinner because she was too tired to cook actual food for me? Or all the times she forgot to pick me up at the preschool, pretending to just be 'a little late'? And, oh, to not talk about the one time she forgot me at the supermarket! You think I can forget?"

Ash remained silent, eyes glued to his son.

"But at least she tried," Clay went on. "She tried hard, recovered, and took me back. What's your excuse, uh?"

"I'll let it go because you're shocked, but you're unfair to me."

Clay's hands scrunched in fists. "You should go. Just go, okay?"

Ash looked down, sighed, and exited the room while shaking his head.

Alone again, Clay put his full attention on his mom. "C'mon, open your eyes. Tell me this is all a big mistake. Tell me you didn't do this."

 ** _. . ._**

The sound of Jason's truck unlocking resounded in the deserted parking lot. He blinked at the reflex of sun reverberating on the windshield and looked up at the clear sky, glad that for once Bravo Team didn't have to deal with late hours.

"Hey!" Davis's voice interrupted Jason's thoughts. "Do you have a minute?" she asked, approaching him.

"What's wrong?"

"Just got a text from Stella. She's working late and worries to leave Clay alone at the hospital tonight, too."

"He's been there alone all day?"

Davis nodded. "I wanted to check on him, but I'm stuck here."

"What are we waiting for?" Sonny popped out from nowhere, drawing strict looks on him. "Come on, I'll behave. I promise."

"Alright. Let's go see our kid." Jason hopped in his truck and waited for Sonny to the same. In the rearview mirror, Davis's figure got smaller until disappearing, but her eyes full of concern were an image hard to wipe out of their minds.

A draught caught the two SEALs unprepared as soon as they stepped a foot in the hospital's parking lot. It was not just the evening falling; that place made them uncomfortable more than a dark room full of hostiles. They crossed their looks. It was for a brother, and for a brother, they would go to hell and back.

"Look what we have here, the famous Jason Hayes."

Jason halted in the middle of the hall, making Sonny almost bump on him. "Sonny, meet the legendary Ash Spenser."

While Sonny scanned him, Ash grinned, but then became all serious. "Here to check on my son?"

Jason nodded. "Shouldn't you be in there with him?"

"He kicked me out." In Ash's voice, frustration and hurt pride appeared stronger than actual concern.

Sonny side-eyed him. "And you let him do that?"

"He's too stubborn. And there was no point in arguing with him right now."

"But you're still here." Jason looked him straight, trying to imagine himself in Ash's boots.

Ash shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a caring man."

"Yeah…" Jason shook his head and motioned Sonny to resume walking.

"So that was _him_ , uh?" Sonny followed Jason through the corridors, fatiguing to swallow the sanitizer's smell that pervaded his nostrils at every intake of breath. "I imagined him a little more—" he froze, getting in the sight of Clay's mother's room.

Leaned on the door frame with dark circles under his eyes there was Clay, surprisingly dismissive in his talk to some nurse.

"We need those documents, sir," she was telling him.

"I don't know where they can be."

"You need to find it out. Very soon." The nurse's tone sounded exactly like Davis's when they misplaced some important piece of equipment. "Without those documents, we can't keep your mother here, you understand?" In an attempt to soften the blow, she caressed Clay's arm, but he retracted immediately. "I'm sorry, but that's how it works."

Clay watched her getting away until his look laid on his teammates. He crossed his arms and stiffened in his pose. "What are you doing here?"

Jason and Sonny ignored Clay's question and moved forward, but Clay didn't move from the door. Even without stepping a foot inside the room, their brain took stock of the situation. What really hit the spot in their hearts was the atmosphere of sorrow hovering around their teammate.

Jason peered intently at his young man's void look. "What was that about?"

"Um, there's some insurance paper missing." Clay paused, glancing inside the room. "They, um, they can't keep her here if..."

"Damn bureaucracy!" Sonny stepped in, as usually too loud.

"I think she has them at home somewhere, but—" Clay continued fixing his mom without paying too much attention to his teammates' reactions. "I—I can't leave her alone…" he said under his breath.

Jason's lips pursed. "You knew your father was still here?"

"Is he?" Clay snorted. "Well, I can't send him to my mom's place. She would hate having him around rummaging through her stuff."

Jason and Sonny looked at each other. That coldness in Clay's voice was something they were not used to hearing.

"I know you two are on the rocks, but I'm sure that if you ask him to stay here with her, he will." Jason placed a hand on Clay's shoulder. "And we can drive you to your mom's apartment and back."

Clay cleared his throat, his eyes shifting from Jason to his unconscious mother.

"You need a break, Clay," Sonny insisted. "And those papers seem pretty important."

The voice of the speaker calling for some doctor's attention resonated with nurses footsteps at their back. A sense of expectation grew in Jason and Sonny while Clay shifted weight uneasily.

"Can you bring Ash back in?" Clay finally said, stepping inside the room to take his jacket.


	4. Chapter 4

Jason's truck proceeded on the highway at a constant speed. Clay had not emitted a single sound since he told Jason his mother's address. He just sat at Jason's left, staring at the road ahead with hands gripping at his thighs. Jason peered at him continually, matching at times Sonny's look in the rearview mirror.

The atmosphere weighted on them. Sonny, for the first time in years, didn't know what to say; adventuring in some touchy feeling conversation was not for him, but cracking a joke would not have the usual effect right now. He shifted in his seat. The best he could do for his young brother in a situation like that was leaving him the front seat without complaining.

While taking a provincial road, Jason broke the silence. "You wanna stop by your place on the way back?"

"At what point?" Clay said, eyes fixed out the truck's windshield. "I need to go back ASAP, and my place is too far."

One eye on the street, Jason turned briefly at him, "Clay—"

"It's here" —Clay pointed at a small semi-detached house— "You can park over there."

The sound of the truck's doors closing resounded, drawing some curious eyes on the three SEALs. Clay headed straight to the door and inserted the key in the lock. With a hesitating grasp on the handle, he turned to his teammates. "Wait here. It will take just a minute if I know where to put my hands."

Jason drew his attention at the neighbors peeking from behind their windows. "You sure?"

"No way I'm standing out here," Sonny said. "No one searches a building alone if his brothers are around."

Clay nodded. His eyes were full of a mix of gratitude and weariness; he didn't want to face what was inside alone but was afraid of what he and his teammates may see.

Jason opened the blinds and a window; breathing that air felt like sharing the bunk with Brock and Cerberus for a week without ever getting out. Before the sunlight showed them the truth of how Clay's mother was living lately, the sound of glass hitting glass echoed as Sonny almost tripped over some empty bottles scattered on the ground.

Clay couldn't wipe the shock from his face fast enough, but Sonny and Jason pretended they saw nothing, going on with a silent and discreet inspection of the apartment. Clay picked up a blanket from the floor, and with shaking hands, he put it on the couch, then started collecting the trash like if he was responsible for it and was ashamed to show his lack of tidiness to his friends. Sonny and Jason's looks met; they were frozen, but without thinking further, they started helping Clay.

"You— you don't have to—" Clay cleared his throat, putting down a half-empty vodka bottle.

"We got you." Jason nodded sternly. "Go get what you came here to get."

Alone in the kitchen after Clay disappeared into the bedroom, Jason and Sonny peeked into Clay's childhood. They already know what type of father Ash was, but they had hoped that at least Clay's mother had been a more positive figure in their brother's life. While the noises Clay made rummaging through drawers and dropping papers reached their ears, the smell of something rotten soon reached their noses. There were dirty plates all over the sink, leftovers of something unidentifiable in them, and glass and bottles everywhere.

The sight of white powder that clearly wasn't flour nor sugar on the kitchen counter made Jason's blood run cold. He moved quickly, cleaning it all out before Clay could see it; that would have been too much.

Sonny, all intent in snooping around, barely noticed what his boss had found. He picked up a picture from the floor, trying to not cut his fingers with broken glass. On it, a smiling woman with a baby in her arms. On the wall, there was a photo of this blond toddler with curios blue eyes, and beside it, teenager Clay on the beach. There were no other photos with them together, nor photo from elementary school.

"What's that?" Jason reached Sonny at the other end of the room.

"Baby Clay, not so different from now." Sonny put the picture he collected from the ground on the table, asking himself why there wasn't a single sign of Clay's affiliation to the navy. He would never say it out loud, but a mother should be proud of a son like Clay.

A note pinned to the fridge attracted the two SEALs' attention. It only said, _Clay,_ but they immediately understood what it was.

Sonny approached, tucking the note down. He couldn't resist and glanced at its content. "Damn it…" he looked over at Jason. The note began:

— _Clay, dear son, I'm so sorry_ —

Sonny grew pale. His eyes met Jason's again, this time waiting for orders. They needed to show their brother what they had found, but how easy would have been to trash the thing and protect him from this sorrow?

"Clay," Jason called, "you need to see this." He motioned Sonny to hand the note to him, and they both held their breath until Clay grabbed it.

They watched as the realization of what that paper was crossed Clay's red eyes. His hands gripped the paper tight; his jaw contracted; his shoulders tensed. Clay opened the note and started reading. First, his hands started shaking, and his eyes filled with anger. Then a tear formed at the corner of his eye, and when he utterly exhaled, it marked his cheek.

"I can't—" Clay put the paper down, not knowing where to look.

Dog barks came through the open window, breaking the deadly silence. Sonny rested a hand on Clay's shoulder, but he retracted and wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Let's go, Sonny," Jason ordered and moved to the door. "We'll be right outside the door, kid," he said, trying to look Clay in the eyes. "Take your time."

Another sniff resounded. Clay stood immovable without even looking at them until the sound of the front door closing reached his ears.

Jason and Sonny settled on the porch while the already familiar curious faces peered at them from a distance. A dreadful silence echoed for a few minutes, and then came the crying, the yelling, and the crash sounds.

Sonny got up and headed back inside, but Jason stopped him.

"He doesn't have to be alone, Jace."

"Yes, he does. He was keeping it all to himself when he needed to blow it off. He won't do it with an audience."

Grunting, Sonny sat down again.

"He'll come to us when he's ready," Jason said.

After a while, a deadly silence came from inside the house. Jason and Sonny walked up and down the porch. Their hearts beat for their brother inside, but they were unable to do anything to ease his sufferings.

Sonny stretched his hand to the knob, but Jason motioned him not to.

"Come on, Jason. He needs us."

"Give him space," Jason ordered, facing him. "He knows we—"

The door creaked open, making Jason and Sonny turn. In front of them was a ghost; he had papers in his hands, and his knuckles were reddened and scratched.

Clay's bloodshot eyes shifted away from his brothers' looks while he cleared his throat. "We can go now," he said flatly while aiming straight at Jason's truck.

There was a moment of hesitation before Jason's finger hit the clicker; as the sound faded, it could almost be heard the sound of Sonny's heart breaking at the sight of Clay getting in the back seat.

Sorrow and anger could be breath in the truck, and the ride back to the hospital seemed as long as one of their flight back home from a mission. Only it was definitely less noisy, reminding them of the dreadful times they came back counting one less heartbeat than the first take off.

When Jason stopped the engine in the hospital parking lot, no one dared to move.

"Team is the only family you need…" Clay whispered, grabbing the handle.

"Sorry, what?" Jason said as he and Sonny turned in unison to look back at Clay.

"That's what Adam said to me once: Team is the only family you need." Clay slightly opened the car door.

Confusion and concern crossed Jason and Sonny's looks.

"Thanks for the ride." Clay stepped out of the truck, but his teammates reached him before he could enter the hospital.

"Wait." Jason put himself between Clay and the door. "We respected your silence, but you can't expect us to leave you like this."

Sonny backed Jason's words. "You just said it, Team is your family."

"I feel you, guys, I really do..." Clay sniffed, hiding and wiping tears from his cheeks. "You are always there for me, and I am always there for you."

"That's what brothers are for," Sonny patted him on the shoulder.

Clay made a step back. "What happens when the people you leave here are the ones who need you, but you're out there with another family?"

The twilight, with its profound quiet, took hold of the parking lot. Pain crossed Jason's look as he struggled to admit to himself that had always been his secret fear.

Clay scrunched his mother's letter in his hand. "I'm sorry, I— I appreciate what you're doing, but can you please go now? I need to be alone with her."

Sonny and Jason looked straight at him, then at each other and nodded.

"We're a phone call away," Jason said before watching Clay silently crossing the hospital doors.

 ** _. . ._**

The breathtaking quiet of the intensive care unit underlined the turmoil of emotion in Clay's heart. All the training and hard work he endured in the years didn't prepare him to face this battle. The situation was out of his control; he could do nothing but bear the weight of the responsibility toward his mother. It was a lonely position, but Clay didn't know how else to face his pain rather than alone.

Once the insurance papers were not a worry anymore, Clay managed to kick his father out again. Now, he was alone with his mom like it had always been.

All evening, Clay's phone kept buzzing until he couldn't bear the sound anymore. Trying to ignore it, he put it on silent, but it wasn't enough. It kept lighting for calls and texts. The only ones Clay returned, though, were Stella's. She would have been there like she had been the previous night, but apparently, that had been an exception. Hospital policy stated that only one visitor per patient was allowed at late hours. Stella suffered from it, but for Clay, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing now.

He felt the need to be alone with his mother, and yet, he could barely look at her.

The beeping of the heart monitor in the background had become a comforting sound; it signaled Clay that his mother was still there with him even when his eyes couldn't make sure of it.

Clay's muscle tingled, and his legs were restless, but whenever he got up, his head started spinning. He couldn't even remember when he ate last, and for how his stomach ached, he couldn't slightly think about food. His attention was caught by the cup of coffee his father had brought him earlier. Clay had refused it, but Ash had left it there anyway. Now, Clay sipped the stale, cold liquid like it was the tastiest thing in the world.

The cell phone screen lighted again, but Clay didn't bother to look who it was. He simply turned it off. He had not done that gesture in years; a SEAL must always be on call, and he had already been a SEAL for seven years before joining Bravo.

Adam's words keep echoing in his head. Team is the only family you need. Reassuring thought when in the field he could only count on his brothers; a dreadful omen now that he was watching his mother throwing her life away because he wasn't with her.

The first lights of the morning filtered through the closed blinds, signing the end of a restless night.

Clay approached his mother's bed and sat on its edge. "Come on, mom, you can't mean these craps," he whispered, scrunching the letter in his hands. His sore eyes laid on his mother's handwriting; it was shaky and confused, and even more than the words, it transmitted all her sorrow.

—Dear son, I'm sorry— Clay started reading. _I'm sorry… I'm very sorry… I'm so sorry…_ those words kept repeating throughout the whole piece of paper. But for Clay, those words meant nothing. He felt anger mounting in him, but when he glanced at his mother's pale face, it was all clear. She was not the object of his rage. He was furious with himself.

—I'm writing this because it's the only way I have to tell you what I have to say—

Clay kept reading; the memory of his phone buzzing during the night while he was deployed and his decision to not answer it weighed on his heart.

—This life you chose, the military, is keeping you away from me, just like it did with your father, and I can't stand that anymore. Because I need you, Clay. I need you—

Clay's throat closed while his chest felt heavy. He hated himself for what he put his mother through, but the thought he could hate his mother, too, for what she was putting him through now was the most painful of the realizations.

—And while I was here worrying you could lose your soul out there in the field, I lost mine. I got lost, Clay, and I feel alone. I'm sorry, but I can't bear that anymore—

While he read those words, tears started clouding Clay's eyes.

—The day your father left us, I found myself alone and felt all the weight of the world on my shoulders. Oh, you were so young, my baby, you needed everything from me, and sometimes I couldn't give you that. I could not hold it together alone. And that was when alcohol came, and drugs along. I tried to protect you from all my craps, but you were so smart… too smart, baby, and I wish I could measure up—

Clay sniffed. His mother was offering him a culprit on a gold plate, and Clay wanted to keep blaming and hating his father, but now there was a bigger enemy in his sights.

—I tried, I really tried, I hope you get that, dear son. But I was not strong enough, and I was hurting you. I am sorry I had to abandon you. Is that why you are quitting on me right now?—

Clay felt like his mom stabbed him right in the heart. His head was spinning; he had never been so confused. It would have been so easy to put the responsibility on his father, and maybe even more natural to put it on his mother. But they were not to be blamed. There was someone else that could have done something but didn't.

—I was weak. I fell into the abyss again. The first time, it was you that made me pull through. The thought of getting you back from your grandparents kept me fighting. And I did it for you. But this time I am too weak, and you're not here—

"I'm here now, mom." Clay's soft voice shook as he tried to control the tears. "I'm here now, please. I'm here."

—Baby, I don't want you to see what I have become when you finally come back to me. I can't let you see that. I'm sorry—

Clay's hands were shaking, and breathing got hard as if he just took a round in his chest.

—I love you, Clay, with every fiber of my heart. I have always loved you more than anything, but I don't' know if you will still love me after you see what I became. It's time for me to go. I'm sorry. I'm too tired—

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Clay whispered while taking his mother's hand. "I'm sorry, mom. Can you hear me? I'm here now. I'm here." He sniffed; the silence in the room underlined the weak beeping of the heart monitor. "I will leave the military if you come back to me," he whispered to her. "I will do whatever it takes to bring you back to me, but please, please, open your eyes."

While Clay wiped his cheek with his sleeve, the unsettling sensation someone was watching him made his arm hair standing up. He turned in time to see a shadow crossing the corridor, but no one came, and the silence sounded deep again.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** Thanks to all who found the time to read to this point and leave a review, I appreciate the encouragement._

 _Halfway to this chapter I've reached the point where I finished rewriting and started writing new scenes. I'm now working on what should probably be the conclusive chapter of the story, and I already changed my mind on the ending half a dozen of times... But don't worry, I'll get there._


	5. Chapter 5

Sonny walked the sterile hallways. He had never been a morning person, but for a brother, he could be. The atmosphere unsettled him, making him speed up only to freeze in the earshot of Clay's mother's room.

"I will leave my team for you," Clay cried.

Sonny had never seen his brother crying. It was a knife to the heart as much as those words of betrayal. Clay was trying to make a deal with God or the Devil or whatsoever… _as it would make any difference at all!_

Sonny breathed his sorrow, but that was not a good reason to give up on your brothers. And if it wasn't for the woman battling for her life right there, Sonny would have gone in and punch Clay in the face. Instead, he silently walked back the road he came.

The rumble of the motorcycle failed to cover for his thoughts, and Sonny cursed the moment he decided to wake up one hour earlier to be supportive to that ungrateful little brat. By the time he was at the base though, rage had left the space to the pure sorrow.

Sonny's heart ran back to when it was his own mother the one lying helpless in a hospital. He was just a boy back then, but sure as hell, he would have promised anyone _anything_ in exchange for his momma's life. But it doesn't work like that. Sonny had soon learned that there were no such things as God. Demons, maybe. He had encountered them on the battlefield many times. But when your hour comes, it just comes.

Sonny adjusted his scruffy hair and looked up the clear sky. It was way too early; anyone was going to question his sanity.

"Is that a vision, or it's really Sonny Queen there?" Davis's ringing voice welcomed Sonny inside the base. "Wow, I must have drunk too much last night," she smirked.

Sonny cracked a fake laugh and aimed at the cages, but Davis reached him.

"Since when Sonny Queen can't take a joke?"

Sonny ignored her and entered the code, but she followed him inside the room and faced him. "Talk to me; this isn't the time for—"

"Ain't time for what?" Sonny grunted. "For my paranoid ideas?"

Davis calmly shook her head. "As always you're messing around all by yourself…"

"Clay wanting to leave the team is not my crazy idea but his."

"You _are_ being paranoid, Sonny. Clay's having a hard time and will probably miss the next mission, but no one ever said he—"

The sound of the door unlocking anticipated Jason's entrance. "Am I interrupting something?"

"He said it." Sonny opened his cage door but immediately slammed it closed again.

"Who said what?" Jason stiffened, breathing thick air.

"Sonny claims Clay told him he wants to leave the team," Davis explained.

"Not to _me_." Sonny sat in his cage. "I overheard him telling his mother."

Jason and Davis's faces were crossed by relief and surprise.

"Did she wake up?"

"Not yet. I think Clay was talking to God or—"

Jason shook his head. "He was trying to cut a deal…"

"Someone has to talk to him." Sonny's stern voice faded into a concert of beeping phones. That would have to wait.

 ** _. . ._**

The morning sun beating on the hospital parking lot heated up Jason's truck. Sonny's words and the new orders Bravo Team received echoed in Jason's mind. He was sweating; time was up. Bravo one should always know what to say his men, but his military training didn't prepare him for the conversation he was about to have with Clay.

The hallways were dreadfully quiet, with the same spooky atmosphere of a village about to get reached by the conflict. Jason tried to shake off the image, but his mind was already set to the next mission. He would have preferred to be already there. The ICU was a hell of a place, one that could really spook even a well-oiled tier one operator. Jason's heart clenched at the thought the green Clay had been there day and night alone with his mind.

To not talk about the smell… Peeking in the room, Jason breathed deeply with his mouth. Clay's mother was as motionless and pale as the last time he was there, and the poor kid who sat on a chair beside the bed with fixed eyes and hands clutched to quivering legs, was almost as pale.

"Any news?" Jason handed Clay a cup of coffee and two stale muffins in a paper bag.

Clay shook his head, grabbing just the drink. As he sipped avidly, Jason placed the food on the mobile table. The regular beeping of the heart monitor was interrupted only by Clay sniffing once.

"We've been spun up," Jason said at last.

"What?" Clay jumped to his feet. "I'm not leaving her."

"I know. That's not why I told you." Jason peered at Clay's eyes with unsettling steadiness. With such marks under them, he looked like a zombie. "You'll be useless in these conditions anyway."

Clay scoffed, facing the window; he could not look at _her_ anymore, nor at his boss while thinking to abandon his brothers…

"You can't go on like this, Clay. This is not healthy for you and not helpful for her."

"You don't know what helps her."

"You falling apart won't for sure." Jason kept his voice sharp and steady. "It could take days, or months, if she ever—"

"She will." Clay's hands formed shaky fists. "And I will be here for her."

"Look at you." Jason scanned his man. "Come on, kid, when did you last eat, or slept?"

"I can take a few nights of not sleeping." Clay sniffed and passed a hand through his rumpled air. Jason stood square foot in front of him, and Clay's eyes went from him to his mother, to the mobile table and the paper bag. "Alright," he said wearily, "I'll eat those later."

Jason nodded, not too convinced. The youngest of his men needed his help, but he could do nothing. In battle, he always knew how to save his brothers from the most awful situations, but at home… his hands scrunched in fists at the feeling he was useless to Clay. "We'll be out of reach for a couple days, but Adam will be at the base if you ever need anything."

Clay quietly shook his head, his gaze nailed at his mother. "I won't."

The heart monitor beeping systematically in the background dictated the rhythm of their thoughts. _Of course_. Clay was a frogman, and frogmen were not good at asking for help. They both felt it.

"Clay." Jason folded his arms and waited until his man looked him straight. "You're not thinking of resigning from the Navy, are you?"

Clay sniffed again; his hands were restless and his eyes shifty. "Who told you that?"

 _There it was_ , Jason thought, pursing his lips. It was not one of Sonny's crazy interpretations of reality. Clay was considering quitting his dream and his family. "So it's true?"

As they both settled on the chairs near the bed, Clay breathed quietly, trying to find the right words. "You know why she did this to herself?"

Jason glanced at Clay's mother, then his eyes met Clay's. That had been the first time he said his mother did that to herself in front of him. The first time he had let Jason see the little sparkle in his eyes without running from his gaze.

"In her letter, she wrote that the loneliness and the fear of me losing my life and my soul in combat lead her to lose herself and—"

"This is not your fault, Clay, " Jason snapped. "She made her own choices, you can't blame yourself for living your life and for serving your country."

"What is the point in all that if I fail the person who needs me the most?" Clay got up, his legs tingling.

Jason opened his mouth, but the buzzing of his phone distracted him. "Hey, look at me. The conversation is not over. Don't do anything until we come back, okay?"

Clay stood silent for a while, then nodded and headed to the window. Jason stared at him with the heart full of pain before silently heading out.

"I expect you guys to come back in one piece."

Jason halted by the door and smiled, Clay still cared about his brothers. Maybe it wasn't over after all.

 ** _. . ._**

The artificial smell, the soft light, and the rhythmic background sound had become Clay's unfailing companions. More than Stella, who spent with him all the time she could. More than Adam, who forced his way into Clay's self-isolation. More than Ash, who had surprisingly been a father for the first time since Clay could remember.

Clay savored that needed moment of solitude with his mother. His unconscious mother. The last three days since Bravo spun up without him had been a nightmare. At times, Clay had felt like he was in the desert, his blood boiling and his mouth dry. Other times, he had felt like he was underwater with malfunctioning oxygen tanks. Quite often, he had felt like he was going through BUDS again, tortured, sleep-deprived, and out of hope.

But there still was hope, Clay kept repeating himself just to stay anchored to the present. At those moments, his chest would feel lighter, and that was when the concern for the brothers he had abandoned kicked him in the stomach.

Clay opened the window. His mother needed him the most now. He took a deep breath, trying to decompress his chest, then sat back in the uncomfortable chair near the motionless figure laid on the bed. His brothers could take care of themselves and of each other, his mother couldn't. She only had him.

Clay's hands itched; his legs couldn't stop quivering. The only thought in his mind was how he kept proving to be a failure. A big failure to his mother, to his brothers, to his girlfriend… to himself… He didn't know what to do anymore.

A familiar voice grabbed him from the edge of the abyss. "How you doing, son?"

"Before you say anything," Clay cleared his throat, "I slept a few hours and ate a full lunch. I haven't been here long."

"Good." Ash settled near his son. "Any news?"

Clay shook his head helplessly. "They say her vitals are stable and her heart is strong, but they can't say anything more until she wakes up." His intake of breath was almost audible. "I don't know how long I can—" he suddenly stiffened, his eye catching something his brain could not properly process.

"You have to take all that pressure off yourself."

Clay huffed.

The rhythmic beeping filled the room. Ash stiffened, too. "Do you really want to bail your carrier to stay here staring at—"

Clay glared at him. "Since when do you care about my life."

"You're being unfair, Clay. I've always cared about you." Ash sighed. "Your mother and I always wanted for you to take your own path one day, without carrying the weight of our choices."

"You agreed on something? That's new."

Ash shook his head. "Adam told me how good you are for Bravo and how Bravo is good for you. He claims you'll soon be better than I ever was."

Clay's hands clasped his legs. His frustration had reached the maximum level.

"Son, you really need—"

"Shut up." Clay leaned over, his heart pounding.

"Oh, come on!" Ash lifted his arms in disappointment.

"Look." Clay jumped to his feet and approached the bed. "There. Have you seen it?"

They both stared breathlessly at Clay's mother's index finger. It moved.

"Mom…" Clay fought back the tears as her eyes fluttered open, and Ash rushed out to call for some nurse. "Mom, it's me." Clay took her hand. "I'm right here."

 ** _. . ._**

Since his mother woke up two days ago, Clay had not been allowed to spend as much time with her as he did before. Physically, she was out of the woods, but mentally, was a whole other story. Any minute he was allowed to spend with her, he was there, and any minute was harder. He still could do little to nothing for her.

His mother refused to talk. At first, she did nothing but apologize, but rather quickly, she closed in herself completely. Clay had been patient like a sniper and tried to comfort her and make her understand it was not her fault, but silence was hall he had. He had to live with the hope the psychologist was more successful than him.

Always sat in that uncomfortable chair, Clay exhaled loudly. That silence was ever thicker than the quiet of her previous coma.

How was it possible? Clay's muscles were restless all the time. How could his mother wrote to him she missed him that much to try taking her life, and now that he was right there, she kept ignoring him?

Clay got up and shook his head to his sleeping mom. She didn't do much more than napping now. He well remembered how messed up she was when he was younger, but he recalled, too, how hard she fought in all those years to stay sober and stable. Clay moved to the window. Was it possible he had really been that blinded all his life? He took a deep breath, he was a SEAL, a fixer, and staying there sitting on his hands killed him.

Sitting back, Clay checked his phone. Adam had told him Bravo Team was going to be back that day with another successful mission on their record. He was sure his brothers would have done it even without him. That was hurting and comforting at the same time.

How could he face them and tell them he was abandoning them forever?

During those long days, Clay had made his decision, he would leave the military to take care of his mother. Her battle was more important than anything. Clay's stomach cramped every time he thought about it. He still had not told anyone, not his mom, not Stella, not his superiors… something inside him was deeply against that troubled decision.

Clay checked his phone again. Visiting hours were almost over. He stared at his mother for a few minutes, leaving her like that was incredibly hard every single time.

 ** _. . ._**

The day had come. A gray sky had welcomed Clay outside his apartment. His license was expired, and he had to show up at the base. He would communicate his choice to his superiors and to his team, but before that, he needed to go see his mother.

Clay settled in the driver seat and took a deep breath. Will his mother even care about his decision? And will his brothers understand that? He gripped the wheel tight. They were going to feel betrayed, and, probably, will say he had been with them so briefly they would easily do without him.

Parking his car, Clay wasn't sure he took the right decision, but he had chosen, and there was no going back. He looked around the semi-deserted parking lot, then glanced at his wristwatch. Even if the rainy clouds had not been there blocking its rays, the sun wouldn't have had the time to warm up the air and the earth yet.

Clay took a deep breath; a SEAL doesn't hesitate. But he wasn't going to be a SEAL for long. If only his mother could give him a little sign that he was doing the right thing…

Walking the white hallway, Clay kept repeating in his head the conversation he had with Stella the night before. She had immediately liked the idea of him leaving that dangerous life, but tried to hide her enthusiasm, working with him on the pros and cons.

Stella would have been supportive whatever Clay had decided, but the smile she had on after his final choice had been apparent.

That morning, Clay's heart weighed like a rock, but a little sparkle of light was about to pierce the blanket of fog. His mother sat comfortably by the window. Her eyes beamed at him, lightly but kindly, in a way they had not done in a lifetime.

"Mom?"

"Baby—" she smiled sadly. A soft breeze messed up her hair; her hands caressed nervously the blanket she had on her legs. "I'm glad you're here."

"Are you" —Clay cleared his throat— "Are you feeling better?"

Tears veiled her eyes. "We need to talk. You think you have a minute for me?"

"I'll always be here for you, mom." Clay dragged a second chair next to hers.

Downhearted eyes accompanied a lip-closed smile. "That's the thing we should discuss."

Clay shifted uneasily in his seat.

"I am sorry for what I put you through all your life. Especially in the last few days…"

"It's okay, mom. It was not your fault."

"Yes, it was," she said in a shaky voice. "I'm done searching for excuses. I need to put my life back together."

"It was not, and I'm here to help you." Clay leaned toward her, meeting her eyes.

"There are things a woman should do alone."

"You know that dependence and depression are illness—" Clay's grandparents had explained that to him as soon as he was old enough to understand— "and none of this is your fault, right?"

"That's why I'm taking professional help." Clay's mother took her son's hand in hers. "Before _this_ , I've been clean for over twenty years. I did it for you, Clay, but that wasn't enough. This time I need to do it for _me_."

Clay's heart was pounding. What was she saying now, that she didn't need him anymore? After all he—

But this wasn't about him. This was about _her_.

"I still need you, baby," she, squeezing his hand. I was like she could read his mind. "This will be the hardest thing I've ever done, and I will still need you at my side, just…"

"I'll do anything."

"We both need to learn when it's time to force yourself in and when it's time to let me do the work alone."

"How?" Clay shook his head. He was used to _do._ Hurry up and wait was hard enough on the job, and not having a clear direction to take was difficult to bear now.

"Patience and attempts?" She shrugged while a tear slowly rolled down her cheek. "Time it's all I have now… but you, Clay, you have much more." She sniffed. "Don't pause your life for me. Don't give up on your dreams."

Clay sniffed, too. "You taught me to always do the right thing for the people you love. Even when it hurts you."

"Oh, baby… don't. I should have taught you that taking care of your own happiness is as much as important—"

"I thought that had been dad's job…"

"—and to distinguish when putting yourself aside will do more damage than healing…" she forced a smile. "I'm sorry, but that's something I'm still learning myself…"

It was rare for Clay to not know what to say, but this time, he didn't.

"I talked to your father, you know... He's really trying."

"Hasn't he done messing up with you?" Clay got up and took a deep breath by the window.

"I was always wrong, Clay. The problem between us had never been the job, and not even him maybe. I was truly proud of what Ash did for a living. Quite as much as I'm proud of you. And… The problem with your father was that he was never home even when he was..."

Clay exhaled softly. "Yeah…"

"The nurses told me how your Capitan and your squad took care of you while I was… while I was asleep…"

Clay's hand rubbed the back of his head. "They're a Master Chief and a Team, but yeah…"

"They are good for you, and you are good for them as much as you're good for me." She exhaled loudly. "This time, I think I can work on sharing you. But you have to promise me two things now, baby."

"Anything," Clay said, sitting back beside her.

Clay's mother took both his hands in hers and locked eyes with him. "Don't give up on your dreams—"

Clay sighed.

"—and don't make the same mistake as your dad. Find the balance, work on yourself. Be there when you're there and here when you're here. You think you can do that for me?"

"I'll do." Clay cleared his throat. "I promise."

"Oh, this won't be easy for neither of us." Clay's mother wiped tears from her cheeks. "Will it?"

Clay smiled encouragingly. "The only easy day was yesterday."

While looking down at their connected hands, Clay glanced at his wristwatch. It was time to go to the base. It was time to communicate his Team he was back. The only problem now would be how to tell Stella he had changed his mind again. But she was smart and caring; she would understand.

Now Clay knew he could have anything he dreamed of. His heart sensed that because the fight didn't scare him.

 ** _._**

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_** _This is the end. Thank you so much for taking this ride with me.  
And thanks for all those kind words in the reviews. I'm sorry if I couldn't get back to everyone in person, but I appreciated every single comment._

 _It was hard to find a proper ending, but I'm glad I finally finished this because I truly needed it to come to a conclusion. I have to admit that if I had written this a few time ago, it would most probably have ended tragically. But not now. Now I was ready for some positivity._

 _Quick note on the last two scenes: this story was about Clay, about how he handled his mother's struggles, and how, despite feeling loved, he chose to self-isolate. This is one of the reasons why I didn't go too deep in his mother's POV and why those last two scenes may seem a little rushed._

 _What Clay's mother had was not a miraculous healing. It was a good day, a starting point for her recovery. When she woke up, she battled with shame, guilt, and feeling a burden to her son, then found the courage to talk it through with a psychologist before being able to open up with Clay. It wasn't easy. She was brave. But the journey is still long._

 _Clay experienced this as if it was his responsibility. He closed in himself, thinking he should be his mother's hero. But he could not if she didn't want to fight.  
If a person close to you is struggling with mental health, please don't give up on them. Respect and encourage them, but at the same time, don't forget about yourself. Self-care is important for the 'helpers' too._

 _That's why Clay is not giving up on his dreams and on his other family, despite now being more conscious about the importance of his relationship with his mother._

 _And if you're the one who's struggling, you don't have nor should handle your mental health struggles by yourself, but you should fight **for** yourself. Doing it for someone else, too, may help at moments, but self-care is a priority. You are important. You are not alone. You're worthy. You can do it._

 _I apologize for the little digression but I felt it was important to share.  
Thank you._


End file.
